


Here We Go Again (I Feel The Chemicals Kicking In)

by InkgooSupernova



Series: The Winter System [13]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Abuse, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst and Feels, Blood and Gore, Blood and Injury, Bondage, Breeding, Breeding Program, Bucky Barnes Cannot Consent, Bucky Barnes Has Nightmares, Bucky Barnes Has PTSD, Bucky Barnes Has Panic Attacks, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Bucky Barnes has DID - Dissociative Identity Disorder, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Death, Dissociative Identity Disorder, Drugged Sex, Electricity, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/M, Flashbacks, Forced Ejaculation, Forced Orgasm, HYDRA Trash Party, Hopeful Ending, Hydra (Marvel), Implied/Referenced Necrophilia, Infertility, M/M, Minor Character Death, Multi, Necrophilia, Nightmares, Non-Consensual Bondage, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Non-Consensual Touching, One Shot, Painful Sex, Psychological Trauma, Rape/Non-con Elements, Shooting Guns, Torture, Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-26
Updated: 2020-04-26
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:01:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23862718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InkgooSupernova/pseuds/InkgooSupernova
Summary: "Soldier? You okay?" The Falcon was rubbing slow, soothing circles into his back. He had awoken from an all-too familiar nightmare, screaming for it tostop. His cock was straining tight against his pants and he felt a deep, resonatingdisgust."One-point-oh." The Soldier barely breathed out, and the Falcon's motions froze for only a moment. He knewexactlywhat he was talking about.The Winter Soldier Breeding Program.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Original Female Character(s), James "Bucky" Barnes/Sam Wilson
Series: The Winter System [13]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1693231
Comments: 6
Kudos: 136





	Here We Go Again (I Feel The Chemicals Kicking In)

**Author's Note:**

> This story is not based on any personal, real life experience and is entirely fictional.
> 
> This story has heavy torture and rape elements and can be considered extremely graphic and triggering to some people.
> 
> Reader Discretion is Advised.
> 
> The title is a line from the song 'Animals', covered by Chase Holfelder

"Hurry up! Get him in here already!" One of the men barked. "Some of us have places to be!"

The Soldier would not stop fighting back.

The men were dragging him by the neck, using two long, leash-like poles to keep their distance. Even if he _tried_ to break free and slaughter these men, it would be fruitless. His hands were bound in thick, leather mitts behind his back, and his jaw was encased in his all too familiar muzzle.

That was the only thing that ever brought him comfort in this cold, cruel, merciless world.

Aside from those two pieces, he was completely naked. He was _cold_.

They pulled him from the holding cell after his last mission- A day ago? An hour ago? A minute ago? He could never tell- and began leading him down corridor after corridor. He didn't understand why they needed to bind him like this. He would obey just _fine_ , they didn't need the mitts or muzzle or the reinforced animal control poles.

Until he recognized the path.

The path that had burned itself into his brain like an iron branding. The path that drudged up an intimate, primal _fear_ in his guts. His insides were screaming, his veins full of fire. He had a new objective.

 _Stay away from that room_.

So that's where it all began, the Soldier struggling with all his might to pull away from these men. They learned their lesson one too many times, it seemed, as they had planned for every possible move he could make to escape. There where three men on his three, six, and nine, all wielding those horrendous sticks that sent pain roaring through his body. The awful clicking of electricity mixed with the angry shouts of the men and his own, animalistic wails.

He was a cornered, trapped, _wild animal_.

The men succeeded in the first portion of their mission when they finally dragged the Soldier's body, kicking and screaming, into the laboratory. The next step was strapping him down to the metal slab.

 _He was not going down without a **fight**_.

" _C'mon_! You _like_ this stuff, remember?! You should be _happy_ that you get to lay some pipe!" One of the men shouted over his own shrieks, yanking on the pole that tightened into a vice grip around his neck with each tug.

" **NYET**! _**NYET! NYE NADO VEE CYKA BLYAT!**_ " The Soldier barked back, struggling against the restraints. He could feel the skin of his flesh wrist tearing as he writhed to free himself of the mitts, to no avail.

After an eternity of struggling, the men resorted to jabbing the thin, sensitive skin of his ribs with the electric prods, eliciting a pained yelp. The momentary stun was all they needed to overpower him, shoving him onto the metal slab. He didn't have the time to pull his bound arms away as the men latched the mitts to a hook, keeping his arms high above his head. He tried desperately to kick his legs out of the men's grasps, but he could not kick hard or fast enough to avoid his ankles getting locked into place by metal braces.

He was _trapped_.

There were new men now, these ones had surgical masks, but he _knew_ this was not going to be a surgery. This was the lab full of _chemicals_.

One of the doctors pulled a syringe from a tray, filling it with some form of liquid. The Soldier could not turn his head enough to see the bottle.

"It's okay Big guy, be brave." The doctor cooed before pressing the needle into the thin skin of his flesh cubital, injecting his veins with the liquid. It was barely a pinch, but the Soldier wailed out as if it were electricity.

God, please _no_. Not _again_.

The men left him alone on the slab, staring at him or talking among themselves, as if it was just a normal day at the office for them. Truth be told, this happened often enough that it _was_ an average day in their careers.

The cold dread in his guts was soon replaced by a searing _urge_. A _need_. A _craving_.

A _desire_.

His skin went from frigid cold to _burning_ hot. His senses were both dulled and sharpened a thousand fold.  
He could feel his cock filling with the boiling blood that raced through his veins.

Everything felt so _intense_.

The Soldier could barely react when the men unlatched his bound arms and legs, dragging him from the slab as they began to guide him to the next room. He couldn't help the moan that escaped his chest as he leaned against one of the men, the texture of the thick kevlar sending delicious shivers down his spine and straight to his cock. He couldn't even be bothered by the man's disgusted, horrified groan as he tried to push his heavy body away.

He could barely keep his feet under him as the men pulled him into a dark, wide room. There was a human- female, Caucasian, blonde, late twenties- bound face-down on a breeding mount, her screams muffled by the gag in her mouth. Her naked body was on full display, hips raised high in the air by the angle of the mount that she was so tightly pressed against. The Soldier could see the base of a metal plug nestled between her ass cheeks that looked so, so _soft_. There was a reinforced rail with latching attachments directly above her.

Fuck. _Fuck_.

He tried desperately to pull away. He couldn't do _this_. Not again.

Please, god, not _again_.

They had done this before. He could faintly recall a time before the muzzle and rail, the taste of blood and flesh in his mouth, fucking deeper and _deeper_ into a warm body that was no longer struggling or screaming. He could recall the feeling of bones and organs crushing beneath his weight as his body collapsed out of exhaustion onto the mount beneath him. He could recall the blood soaking his hands as he tore flesh from bone, watching as the organs beneath him writhed and squirmed in his hands, watching the way he could _see_ his cock fucking into the freshly opened cavity. Watching the body beneath him choke on its own blood as he ripped out the throat that refused to _stop screaming_. The scent of blood and viscera was so _overpowering_.

 _He didn't mean to hurt her_.

He knew they had done this before, he knew that the ones that Hydra deemed failures were lined up and shot.

He knew, because he was ordered to shoot them.

 _He knew he was part of a breeding program_.

The men easily overpowered his useless, traitorous body, pulling him towards the mount and _fuck_ , the scent of natural lubrication and skin and sweat and _fear_ went straight to his now straining cock.

Dear god, he was so _sorry_.

The Soldier tried one last time to pull away, his swimming eyes pleading with the poor body in front of him for forgiveness.

Because god doesn't listen to him anymore.

He felt one of the men's gloved hands tugging his cock to full hardness, and he couldn't help the shiver that covered his skin in goosebumps. The coarse texture of leather and kevlar clawed at the sensitive sex organ so _perfectly_. It felt so fucking _good_.

He needed to _breed_.

"He's hard enough, we can't waste any of his seed, remember?" One of the men piped up, and the mitts encasing his hands were suddenly latched to the rail above the mount, forcing him to practically blanket the body beneath him. "That shit's the money maker."

Please, please forgive him. He didn't want this.

He _needed_ this.

 _Hydra made him want this_.

One of the men reached between the two bodies, grasping the Soldier's painfully hard, practically _weeping_ cock and angling it up into the pussy beneath him, helping to guide him in as his hips bucked on their own accord.

 _Fuck_.

He tried so _hard_ to fight against this, he didn't _want_ this. He was far too drunk on the chemical cocktail in his bloodstream. There was no other way out of this.

He just had to get this over with.

He couldn't help the deep, rumbling growls that escaped him as he fucked into the screaming, squirming body beneath him. The electric fire that lapped at his nerve endings burned so _deliciously_. He used the rail he was latched to for leverage and drilled his cock into the warmth beneath him again and again and _again_. The hot, soaking flesh gripping his cock felt so fucking _good_.

He wanted to be _good_.

The Soldier cried out, almost as if he was being tortured, as his horribly intense orgasm hit him like a freight train. He buried his cock impossibly deeper into the now sobbing body, pumping out thick, milky ropes of his precious material that Hydra so desperately desired.

He was done. He was spent. They would let him go back to his cell and hide away forever now. They got what they wanted out of him.

Or so he had thought, until he felt gloved hands pressing against his sweat-slicked hips.

Hydra demanded _more_.

The Soldier snarled in defiance as he tried to pull away from the now painfully _too much_ warmth of the body beneath him, which only resulted in the hands pressing him back in, forcing a gross mockery of a thrust that sent a painful shock through the Soldier's spine. His cock was so oversensitive and painful and he wanted it to _stoppleaseSTOP_.

But Hydra wanted _more_.

Hydra _always_ got what they wanted.

By the time the fourth orgasm tore through his sensitive, drugged up insides, he could bear it no longer. The Soldier's heavy body collapsed on top of the whimpering body beneath him, nearly crushing the poor woman if not for the rails that bound his arms in place.

"C'mon, you can do better than _that_." One of the men hissed. In the Soldier's drugged up, dissociated, disoriented state, he could feel a hand pulling his ass cheeks apart, followed by a cold, blunt pressure against his hole. With one swift push, the prod was lodged deep inside of him, pressing against his aching prostate.

**No.**

The Soldier screamed in agony as the prod whirred to life, releasing an electric hellfire to rip apart every fibre of his being. He couldn't even hear the pained wails of the body beneath him over the horrible ringing in his ears.

This torture method managed to wring another three painful, pitiful orgasms from his exhausted body. That made seven total.

By the time the eighth orgasm pierced through his soul, his body couldn't even produce a drop of the coveted material that Hydra was perfectly willing to torture and kill for.

"That's enough." A voice commanded, and the prod finally, _finally_ ceased its assault on his existence. "This is all gonna be a waste if you kill the participant."

Participant. As if either he or the poor body beneath him _volunteered_ to this.

By the time the sense-enhancing _nightmare_ finally ended, the Soldier was unbound, guided back to his holding cell, and allowed to collapse on the cool, damp floor to rot.

He felt so painfully _numb_.

———

The Soldier was handed a gun. He was outside in the firing range. Target practice. The sun was high in the sky and the air was cool and crisp. He would be returning to the ice soon.

He would be allowed to rest soon.

There was a human- female, Caucasian, blonde, late twenties- kneeling before the brick wall that loomed over her. Her hands were bound behind her back. Images of hands bound to rails flashed through his brain.

Another failure. The men said that this one was number forty-five.

The Soldier raised the barrel of the gun, and did not hesitate to paint the brick wall with human viscera. The bright red blood and dark grey matter that splattered the wall and ground glistened in the sunlight as the gunshots rang out.

 _He would be allowed to rest soon_.

———

"Soldier? You okay?" The Falcon was rubbing slow, soothing circles into his back. He had awoken from an all-too familiar nightmare, screaming for it to _stop_. His cock was straining tight against his pants and he felt a deep, resonating _disgust_.

"One-point-oh." The Soldier barely breathed out, and the Falcon's motions froze for only a moment. He knew _exactly_ what he was talking about.

The Winter Soldier Breeding Program.

It seemed that night's nightmares were flashbacks to W.S.B.P.1.0.

"I'm so sorry, buddy," The Falcon's voice was so soothing, a balm to his frayed nerves. "There was nothing you could have done, you didn't have the choice to say 'no'." He always knew what to say.

There were sixty-five total in that program.

They were all _failures_.

After puking in the bathroom sink, obliterating a punching bag in the apartment's small gym, and a freezing cold shower, the Soldier returned to bed, the horrible memories cleared from his brain for the time being.

The Falcon was still awake. He opened his arms, and the Soldier couldn't help but crawl into his warm, comforting, merciful embrace.

"I'm sorry," The Soldier sighed, a prayer on his lips. "I'm sorry, I'm so _sorry_." Those little words continued to tumble from his chest, followed by deep, painful sobs.

"I know." The Falcon needn't say anything else, he just held him tighter.

The Falcon knew those sorries were not meant for him.

**Author's Note:**

> **Translations:**
> 
> Nyet: No
> 
> Nye nado: Don't
> 
> Vee: You
> 
> Cyka Blyat: Common swear, most closely translates to 'bitch fuck'.
> 
> If any of these are incorrect, feel free to correct me in the comments.
> 
> **Brief Explanations:**
> 
> In this universe, the Winter Soldier was used by Hydra in an attempt to breed more super soldiers, resulting in the aptly named Winter Soldier Breeding Program, or the W.S.B.P.
> 
> However, due to his genetic modification by the mock serum, his semen was no longer compatible with humans, thus rendering him infertile. Hydra attempted to breed him with many different humans in hopes that one would happen to be a compatible match. In W.S.B.P.1.0, they attempted to breed him with sixty-five 'participants', all of which were incompatible and therefor considered failures. The Soldier was then instructed to euthanize these 'participants' when they did not become pregnant.
> 
> Early on in the program, Hydra neglected to take precautions to avoid unnecessary death, resulting in an incident where the Soldier bit out the jugular vein of a 'participant' during the breeding process. Another incident resulted in the Soldier crushing a 'participant' to death when he collapsed on top of her out of exhaustion. Another incident resulted in the Soldier accidentally tearing open a 'participants' throat and stomach cavity. All of these incidents resulted in the now required 'muzzle-railing' system, in order to avoid further injury or loss of life.
> 
> The W.S.B.P.1.0 took place between the late 1950s and early 1960s, and were not the last of the programs, as with evolving technology, Hydra would continue to try again. These further experiments will be touched upon in later stories.
> 
> The trauma of these sexual assault events cause nightmares and flashbacks for Bucky and the others in his system, mostly for Soldier himself, as he is a trauma-holder alter and directly experienced these events at the hands of Hydra.
> 
> The drugs that Hydra used on the Soldier was MDMA, or Ecstasy, a drug that enhances the sense of touch and feeling and is known as a sexual stimulant.
> 
> As always, Kudos and Comments are always appreciated!


End file.
